Through a haze of hookah smoke and rich incense, you see her. Nestled amongst the indulgences of a grand ballroom, was a Skunk. The owner and proprietor of the Resort within which you stood. “Do come closer darling, let me get a better look at the New Arrival.” Somehow, in spite of being dozens of feet away, you heard her voice and felt her breath as if she was right next to you. You were willed forward.

She wanted you closer, and you were obliged to do so, adhering to it as if it were gravity. Upon approach, she bestowed upon you a new lifestyle of luxury and decadence. It was a whirlwind of bliss and excess. Food and drink in such quantity that you were stuffing yourself with a family's worth of food each night. Drinking for a small feasting hall of ardent alcoholics. Fornication and fondling with other partygoers, those far more experienced in such perverse and foreign pleasures.

First it was for days. Then weeks. Maybe even months into years. You didn’t really bother remembering after the first few hours. You were too lost in bliss. But then again. Did you care? You have nothing more to worry about, then deciding on what to eat next. All you wanted was another helping.

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Art done by   Volkenfox